The Nymph

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The Nymph - Monologue My mind wonders, abiding to thy will yonside. My heart would only be for thee aforetime, had ye not written yet scorned. These offers could not be formed by thou tongue, so I look askance. Ye say all right words, yet none the right to please my heart. Blessing upon blessings, thy gowns, thy roses, thy posies, where ye promise a heart only of mine? Might ye offer love not tainted boon, my heart may blench of nothing else, and perhaps give way more soon. But I wish to be below the wind, not benighted, to live with thee and be thy love. Might ye have carried me in the wind? Might ye have fought for me? Thou dost have boon to please and capture a beautiful young heart. But my heart can only be mine. Why must ye offer so small when the world beckons and enchanted me first? Can ye not feel it? Can ye not reconcile my way? Defeat the storms and possess the skies, make a beast bow at thine feet slain. Then shall my heart and hand oblige to thee. I feel things amiss, awry just as aught. Ye cant persuade me with comely coffer, my heart is not so easily swayed. I cull none other but ye who would indulge in the treasures and disregard a ladys heart. Could ye truly believe my heart would love material and not the source of life itself? Must ye insult my nethermost desires? Through blustery weather, perilous storms, nature doth as nature intends. Nature purely intends as one heart will beat. Art thou aware of the desires decreed by thine hearts very beat? Could slippers of gold and beautiful kirtle truly caress thine mortal soul? Lay in the grass with me, to this my mind might move. Listen to the birds chirp, with open ears and in this ye can seek sweet sound. Although I am slandered, I am willing to forgive, but wilt ye yield? I'll acknowledge thy recreant attempt with grace as our hearts bear differences, lest we forget. Must ye come to be informed that I am a runagate, a wanderer of the forest floors? A plait of daisies is the crown I wear on my head. Should gold come to my fancy, Id digress. Have ye come to be familiar with thine own ways? Should ye happen upon a confused spirit, might ye remediate or be taken to? Might ye wake in this new mans stead? That shant be me: may my mind, not for ye or for my own indulgence, but for love and no other sake. Ye would become the tomnoddy, the fool for falling into wile. If ye vie my ways, my heart cannot change, for I too would become the tomnoddy, to dare my heart such rue. Fires and oceans may wreathe and with my body will I move, but my decision cannot be wavered with it. Try as ye would, with each cowardly letter and fragmentary shame, know me, for I am the forest nymph who shalt never take thy name.